Emery's POV
There's a ghost here, I read, and she claims to know Emery.
"A ghost?" I asked aloud, "What do you mean? There are more ghosts?"
There are a thousand ghosts that a living human's eyes can't see, Severus replied, I have seen many, but we do not speak to each other. We are only here to serve our purpose. Not to make friends. This one is the first to talk to me. She says she is only a passing spirit, and she needs to talk to you.
"Okay, give her the pen," Aaron said, after reading over Severin's note. I was still appalled that a ghost wanted to talk to me.
She says no. She is a passing spirit, only there to watch, not interfere. Unlike me, she can't touch things.
"So, a ghost's abilities depend on their purpose?" I asked in excitement, "That's so cool!" And it was. Since I've met Aaron, I have learned so much about the supernatural; Dean and Sam from the Supernatural series would be so proud of me.
The ghost says "you haven't changed." Severin wrote.
"What does she me-"
I stopped mid-sentence when I thought about it. You haven't changed. There was only one person who died in my family, who knew me more than anybody, who I missed the most.
"Grandmother?" I asked out loud, looking in the air. I wish I could see her. If it was her, I wish I could see that knowing smile, with that proud look on her face. "Is- Is she my grandmother?" my voice cracked with emotion. I didn't want to start crying in the school's cafeteria though, so I held it back.
Aaron heard the emotion, I guessed, because with a simple, "Let's go," he dragged me by the hand all the way to his apartment.
My head started rushing with questions as we hurried to his home. Why now? Why not earlier? Was it really my grandmother on the other side? How long has she been watching me? Why hasn't she contacted me earlier?
Aaron dragged me all the way to his apartment. And I hoped the ghost followed us.
~{()}~
Severin's POV
"So, you are my grandmother?" Emery asked, wide-eyed. He was staring at the notepad with so much hope. I looked at Aaron, who looked extremely uncomfortable; it was probably because he didn't know how to handle the situation. He didn't know what to do.
I looked across to the woman standing, or floating, to my left. She looked wrinkled, but somehow, she still looked young. It was probably because she is not going through any pain like an elderly person usually went through. She stood straight up, smiling knowingly at Emery, with a happy little glint in her eye. She looked at me, who was still holding the pen, and nodded.
She said yes, I wrote. And I looked up to Emery. Our faces were close, due to his leaning toward the notebook, so I saw his expression clearly. At first, there was shock. His eyes widened further, he held a hand up to his mouth. The hand remained there as the shock slowly delved into sorrows, with perhaps nostalgia hidden behind it.
He looked around in the air, as if trying to find his grandmother. Aaron glanced at the answer on the notepad and settled for holding Emery's hand in solace. Aaron's touch made Emery jump, look at his boyfriend, and blush. However, shiny tears had welled up in Emery's eyes, and, as quick as the blush came, tear tracks were running over his rosy cheeks.
I couldn't tell whether he was happy or upset. Happy that Aaron was holding his hand, that his grandmother was speaking to him, or giddy because he had a boyfriend. Upset because he couldn't see his grandmother, hear her voice, and had no knowledge of why she was here. This was the second time I had seen Emery cry like this, and both times were because of this woman. Obviously, she meant a lot to him.
She must have been like Aaron was to me.
There is always that one person you never want to lose. That one person, whom you may have already lost, was there, is there, or will be there. A person you completely trust.
Aaron was my first American friend. He was sweet when I first met him: basically a ball of sunshine that was all about being a goody-two-shoes. Good grades. Good behavior. Good life. He had the perfect balance in everything. A steady foundation. A great family. A future. Dreams.
But after I died, those dreams turned into nightmares. I winced every time I heard him scream from fear; nightmares were one of the things I couldn't protect him from. That ball of sunshine turned into a dark, depressed moon. He moved away from his family, shutting them out. His good life rotted like an apple on the ground, just waiting to be decomposed.
When I was alive, his whole world revolved around me, and I loved it.
When I died, however, it still revolved around me and I hated it.
Don't get me wrong, I still love him. He is still the person I trust the most, even in my death. However, I can't stand to see my daylight turn himself into a dark night because of me.
Emery was catching up with his grandmother. His tears were slacking off, as he started to get more excited to talk to her. I wrote down his grandmother's replies, but my mind wasn't in the conversation.
I was thinking about Aaron.
I'm not usually the one to pine over boys, but Aaron was special. Aaron wasn't only my boyfriend; he was my best friend. I missed sitting in his lap, dragging him off to kiss him, and feeling the warmth of his chest when he insisted on snuggling. But I also missed watching him rave about Harry Potter to me, worry over me after I got into fights, and getting over-excited about going to Chick-fil-A.
I'm a ghost now, all I feel is cold, and most of the time Aaron doesn't even know where I am.
I was happy that Aaron found Emery, but it was going to suck watching Emery do all of the things with him that I can only wish of doing again. I knew my heart was going to hurt a lot. Especially if they ever got to where they loved each other, or had sex, or every other milestone in regular relationships. Engagement, marriage, KIDS?
My heart already hurt from the thought. If I wasn't dead, it would probably hurt even more. You can kill a body, but you can't kill a soul. Like a living person, I still had feelings and thoughts, but none of them were happy right now.
I'm strong. I can do this. It's not like Aaron was the only person who cared about you, I thought, It wasn't like your parents forgot to cry when you died or the fact that they found out you were gay, and then didn't come to your funeral.
I always knew they hated me, but I didn't think it would be to that extent.
Was I letting Aaron slip through my fingers? Was I willingly letting the only person who cared about me to get taken away? Why was I helping Emery again?
Right, for Aaron. This was for Aaron's happiness, not mine. Ghosts don't get happiness. We're dead. Our feelings don't matter.
This was for Aaron.
"Why are you only talking to me now? Why didn't you contact me before?" Emery asked his grandmother when I tuned back into the conversation. My thoughts were dangerous right now, and I didn't want to end up sad or jealous. Those kinds of ghosts didn't turn out well.
"Remember the glass flower?" she asked, and I repeated her words on the paper.
"Yes," Emery mumbled, "It...um, it broke."
"Exactly! I told you when I gave you that flower that it holds ghosts. I stayed inside that glass flower until you needed me most," she stated, and I wrote, "When that fower broke, I was released from it."
Interesting...I wonder how the woman got a hold of such a supernatural object?
"Right, I forgot about that..." Emery mumbled then said, "So, you were with me the whole time?"
"I never left," she replied. She turned to me as I wrote the words down. "Thank you, for doing this. I've been waiting so long to see and speak to my grandson."
I didn't know what to say. Not many people liked me enough to say "thank you."
"Of course," I replied.
"Don't they look cute together?" she asked me, looking at Aaron and Emery's joined hands. They were talking to each other, their faces close. My jaw clenched, and my brows furrowed.
"Yeah," I mumbled. I didn't know how else to answer that question. I didn't talk much as a living person, unless it was cussing someone out or talking to Aaron.
"You love him don't you?" she smiled, pointing to Aaron. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued: no one had ever read my emotions that well before. I was usually good at being a blank slate.
"Always have," I replied, "Always will."
If Aaron could have heard me, he would probably have commented on how I sounded just like Severus Snape from Harry Potter. The thought made me want to smile, but I kept my blank expression.
"You won't get in the way of them, will you?" she said, crossing her arms, "I won't allow it, you know."
I thought for a second. Would I ever do that to Aaron?
"Mrs. Adams, I can assure you that, as long as Aaron is happy with Emery, that I would never do such a thing. Aaron's happiness means more to me than my own," I admitted.
"Ah, to be young and in love," she sighed, dropping her arms, "You're a good boy. Whatever happened to you?" She gave me a once-over, observing my ghost-like state.
"Let's say, I messed with the wrong person and leave it with that," I grumbled, scrunching up my nose at the thought of Silas McCallister. The more I thought of him, the more I wondered what went on inside of his head. How could someone be so sinister and live with the guilt? Did he have any remorse?
"Some mistakes are worth making," was all Emery's grandmother said. She was a wise woman, I noted. Very observant. The more I talked to her, the more I felt as if she knew every answer to life and death. Was she some sort of god?
I almost laughed at myself. If she was, she would probably be able to talk to Emery without my help.
Speaking of Emery, Aaron and Emery were talking to each other about the arrival of Emery's grandmother. About how lucky Emery was to have her back and about how she was like when she was alive. Emery seemed so happy with this information from her ghost, and I watched as his grandmother smiled when she observed her grandson like he was the most interesting person in the world.
I missed being looked at like that. I missed being looked at by someone I knew. Especially Aaron.
It seems that my mind could never stop thinking about him. It never would.
Because that was my purpose as a ghost. To be there for him. To protect him.
But was being here beneficial or did it end up hurting us both?
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